Transformers A to Z
by FromHakaryou
Summary: Parts of a possibly on-going challenge. Challenge was to write a short fic using the first letter of the transformers name as a word for the theme of the fic. Hard to explain, you'll just have to read.
1. Foreward

These are three little fics I did as part of an A to Z Transformers Fic Challenge.

The first one is Megatron - driven by the word 'Megalomaniac'. I was kind of going for a darker, more introverted aspect of the word than being outright and flamboyant about it. I picture him being the newly appointed leader of the Decepticons at this point.

The second one is Starscream - driven by the word 'Silence'. At first I was going to apply the word to him, as in having him be silenced in some way, but that idea changed in the end. Again it's kind of introverted, and, I suppose, just a little mushy if you want to look at it that way. I'm definitely a supporter of the two of them being Bond Mates, and so that's where this is coming from.

The third one is Soundwave - driven by the word 'Seclusion'. I knew what I was going to do with this one from the beginning, and it is based a little from my Contagion time line, wherein Soundwave doesn't have a gender. Anyway, I see him as the equivalent of like 13 in this little drabble.


	2. Megatron

Megalomaniac (Megatron)

1. A psychopathological condition characterized by fantasies of wealth, power or omnipotence.

2. An obsession with grandiose things or actions.

I still could not stand the way he looked at me - even now when his optics had faded with age; become dusted with time. I wanted to close my hands around his throat and squeeze- squeeze until his main fuel line ruptured, until his head popped off. I wanted to force my power so mightily upon him that he would forever fear the slightest whisper of my name. I considered it a shame my father had already been terminated, lest he freeze in the icy grip of my shadow.

I stared at my father's countenance, as if regarding his statue-esque presence with curiosity, and flared my scarlet optics at his chestplate. I scanned through the enclosed circuitry, the knotted wires and empty spark chamber; but his chassis was otherwise barren. He yielded to me no secrets, no advice from generations past: No Matrix. I had not, honestly, expected him to have it; he had not been a capable enough leader for such an honor. If the Matrix had chosen to bestow its power upon his vast incompetence, then it was a trinket of no interest to me. I could lead well enough on my own.

I heard Starscream pacing around behind me, anxious and frightened. The poor fool had lost touch with the scientist he had once been, and accepted an irrational fear of the unknown in the knowledge's place. He, like so many others, squirmed in the presence of such ancient greatness. I, myself, was not bothered. For I knew that my power, nay, my legend, would soar galaxies beyond those of my late fore-fathers. I was Megatron - I was power.

"Come Starscream," I cooed, startling the Seeker, "I have what I came for."


	3. Starscream

Silence (Starscream)

1. A complete and total absence of sound.

2. The inability to make noise.

There weren't many things which made a bot stand out- his size of course, his power and position, his alternate mode perhaps- but most of all: His voice. His ability to vocalize, to approve or disapprove, to give his unique input or put someone else down, his power to bend others to his will for good or evil. It was the same with Megatron. Oh sure he had power, size, position and respect, but he also had words. His vocals alone could spurn the whole Decepticon army forward into their termination in his name. He alone seemed to have the vocal prowess to drag practically anyone under his influence, to corrupt any central processor. He alone also possessed the ability to remove that influence; to become silent.

He rarely had kind words for me, my leader. He seemed to continuously spew my name, to slander my reputation and rip me to shreds with that voice. His touches were likewise - never soft but hard, rough and unforgiving. I could move past these things. Around my spark I had built walls to keep out his insults; and years of abuse saw to building my threshold for pain - but he knew ways around my barriers. He knew his silence stopped my spark from pulsing.

His insults told me he was disappointed in me. When he talked me down until I was smaller than an atom, I knew he was ashamed; ashamed of me and what I had done to darken his reputation. I could deal with that. I often later saw my own mistakes and strove to never make them again. His hands, his torturous hands, told me I had stepped out of line. The feeling of his fingers maiming me beyond recognition only told me my time had not yet come. It only made me try harder. But his silence terminated me.

Four million years together. Four million years to study him, to become a master at predicting his actions. It seemed like a long time - it was not long enough. I could not read his silence. I did not know what to prepare myself for. I could not take the pain of being ignored. It made me long for his insults, and the pain which followed. It coiled my cords into knots as I realized how weak I was - how dependant upon him I had become.

~Megatron,~ I , shuddering as he walked past. He gave me nothing but silence in return.


	4. Soundwave

Seclusion (Soundwave)

1. Alone

2. In a state of isolation from others, be it physically, mentally, or emotionally.

I could hear them talking behind my back, and I already knew the rumors they spread. It was hard not to know when I had been exposed to them all my life. I was unknown to them, a foreign obscenity over which they could not wrap their central processors. In a society preened to be perfect, a minute glitch or a returning, persistent malfunction was unacceptable. To exhibit such behavior was to label oneself an outcast. Our society was supposedly so advanced that such system malfunctions made one less sentient. Less than good enough.

There was nowhere I could go for comfort, no place that I could find solace. I was alone in my own home for I was a disgrace to my parents. My birth had sullied their good name. I had brought nothing but humiliation and it seemed that it would never be any different. To my young central processor it seemed unfair that I was to be subjected to a function cycle such as this. All because I had the ability to store life within my chassis. I had no gender chips what-so-ever, and therefore I was expendable and disgraceful.

Unlike my peers my difference did not make me special - it cursed me to an endless cycle of seclusion.


End file.
